136 // Something Will Get Done

Today is not as much of a “do-nothing” kind of day as yesterday was. I always forget that if you try to rest all of Saturday, you must do double duty on Sunday and this Sunday’s to-do list is quite long. Add that to the late start and the gloomy skies and my mood is bordering on irritable and I’m close to giving up and letting the universe implode or whatever happens when you decide to stop being a responsible adult for more a day or so.

Today’s coping tool is the timer. I’m alternating between writing time, and time to work through the to-do list. I set 30 minutes and type away, then I get up and complete a task. I have a drink and a snack maybe then set another 30 minutes and start typing. I’m not perfect. Sometimes typing time turns into Twitter time and sometimes task time turns into TV time, but I’m trying. In the end, something will get done today.

I admit this isn’t the most effective way to structure my Sunday. My wife is the type to separate her task time and free time entirely, as I think most people are. She spends her morning on errands and chores and then has the whole of the afternoon to herself. It sounds nice, and I have tried to break my days up this way but while doing one I’m always thinking of the other. When I’m washing dishes I want to write, when I’m writing I want to wash dishes and in the end neither is done well or efficiently.

It’s better for me to know that I only have to focus on one thing for a little while. I can enjoy the peace and satisfaction of one task without the guilt because I know I will get to the other in time.

I still wish I had another day to myself, at least. I really wish I had whole week to call my own! More time to do more of what I want in and more to spend with the people I love most. I will always believe the 40 hour work week was one of the cruelest inventions of humanity. And with that thought comes the usual Sunday afternoon blues…


Another lazy day. It’s okay. I feel fine both emotionally and physically. There is a little guilt, a little panic, and a little excitement bubbling below the surface. Next week life begins again, and I am mentally and emotionally freaking out. It’s not so much the work or the people but the changes, the new way of operating and the etiquette that I’m nervous about.

A lot of my anxiety is social. I do not like when I either have to meet new people, or meet people in a new setting, or when for any reason the social norms or expectations are ambiguous.

I’m afraid, I guess, of looking stupid, of offending, of not being liked. It sounds dumb, but in the time of Covid-19 there are expectations about masks, about how close to stand, and about cleaning and hygiene. There are offences over your level of concern or belief about the virus, its origins, and the government’s response.

There is, for people who over think the details most never even notice, a lot to think about and navigate.

I comfort myself by remembering that no one knows how to act or react right now. There is no right or wrong, just whether you care and are willing to correct or stubbornness and recklessness. I do care and I am willing so I should not feel afraid.